tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86392837317626908812018-08-28T18:49:59.626+02:00Jamie Woods '77fiction | non-fiction | pop culture Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-65643280098259164672013-10-24T13:23:00.001+02:002013-10-24T13:23:45.121+02:00PoetryI've been waiting for my MA results, and to ward off the inevitable inertia, have been writing poems.
And reading them.
In public.
Seeing as this is of a more 'professional' endeavour, I've blogged about them on my proper website, rather than here, which is fast becoming a ramshackle array of words.
Here I talk about Poetry Action in Swansea Market
& here I talk about the Made in Roath Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-27526057108892753392013-08-21T02:09:00.003+02:002013-08-21T02:09:40.241+02:00Firsts / LegoI have two kids. They are forever experiencing firsts, be it steps, words, days at school, it never ends for them.
For us though, as adults, it gets slower: the gaps between these fresh events in our own lives are filled with the mundane and the domestic.
This week, though, I have had some bizarre firsts. I (along with several others) was heckled at a poetry reading by a fella who was in no fitJamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-18699002722617308612013-05-24T01:00:00.000+02:002013-05-24T01:00:02.493+02:00DesubicadoDesubicado is the word I was looking for in my Fiction Fiesta review (below).
It is a Spanish term meaning displaced, confused, but an extreme of this.
A lack of belonging to a place.
A lack of 'home'.
The opposite of my adopted country's hiraeth?
I don't know.
What I do know is that this profound sense of desubicado helps me to describe something I've been trying to put a finger on, a word on, Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-12756174666172437012013-05-22T00:45:00.000+02:002013-05-22T00:45:43.221+02:00Notes on a Fiesta
I went to
the first day of Cardiff’s second Fiction Fiesta
– Saturday 18th May 2013.
Fiction Fiesta, they tell us, is:
An innovative programme of literary events celebrating international fiction and poetry in translation alongside home-grown talent.
Here are my thoughts on the day. The morning sessions were more academic, discussion-led, while the afternoon sessions were primarily Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-57204919280008570442013-03-06T03:17:00.002+01:002013-03-06T03:17:51.139+01:00Anyone, Anyone...
So, as part of my MA, there is a substantial amount of work covering the Teaching of Creative Writing, as well as the Writing element.
And tomorrow marks my first major development on that front, as I'm going into a local school to be the 'visiting writer' for their Creative Writing club.
I've had some excellent and inspirational visiting writers recently: Tessa Hadley, Clare Potter, James Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-33816301106268625622013-01-25T10:55:00.002+01:002013-01-25T10:56:37.900+01:00Dear Ralph.
@jamiewoods77 well I hope you're going to join me in Britpop Friday. Starting with Elastica and we'll see where it goes from there!
— djnrrd (@djnrrd) January 25, 2013
Dear Ralph...
ALRIGHT?
I hoped I'd WAKE UP to a BEAUTIFUL DAY but alas, WHY DOES IT ALWAYS RAIN ON ME? My wife is the opposite: 'I'M ONLY HAPPY WHEN IT RAINS', SHE SAID, but then, she's a STUPID GIRL.
Anyway, I'm not a Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-73183205950472425172013-01-12T00:54:00.000+01:002013-01-12T00:54:13.960+01:00The Only Living Boy in New CrossI miss London, a lot. But then I see what I have here and I'm happier than I think would be possible there.
But in a heap of Yuletide nostalgia I wrote a short story, creative non-fiction, life writing, based on actual events. It's about a night club in New Cross called The Venue, which is where myself and my friends used to go every weekend when we were at school.
It's been published by the (Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-2322388237234508382013-01-12T00:25:00.001+01:002013-01-12T00:25:54.534+01:00Janathon FailI couldn't do it.
I had a bad back on Monday and couldn't do anything. Today I had about 3 hours sleep and 10 hours out of the house at work. I'm now wrestling a little girl who WON'T GO TO SLEEP.I've still been running a couple of times this week and walking everyday.
But the essay writing has got in the way of the blogging, and LIFE and BABY and JOB have got in the way of the running.
And when Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-25076920244180671732013-01-06T23:00:00.000+01:002013-01-07T02:21:15.802+01:00Janathon #6
When I run, I listen to music on my headphones. When I was
younger, I listened to music pretty much constantly, on an array of Sony
Walkmans and cheaper, Aiwa or Bush branded cassette players. All of which
missed some component: the battery casing, the front, the rewind button. I
moved on to a Goodmans portable CD player, which spat out spent batteries in no
time.
A brief foray into Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-47957542406793172192013-01-05T23:00:00.000+01:002013-01-06T05:01:27.574+01:00Janathon #5So, this is something that I've been working on in my head, and during today's Janathon run I managed to piece it together. It's part of a much longer piece that I'm writing. The narrator is a girl who has gone to meet her sister in London.
--- Lyssa ---
On the tube, I get the chance to take a good look at my
older sister. She’s skinnier than the last time I saw her. She looks dreamy and
Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-41444730113241324242013-01-04T00:56:00.000+01:002013-01-06T00:58:19.442+01:00Janathon #4
Fridays and exercise do not compute.
I walked a mile. I walked more than a mile, but I walked one
whole mile with intent.
The intent, the incentive, was to get home. Half the walk
was to catch a bus to catch another bus, and then the other half was to get
home, warm.
I finished work at 9pm. I got home at 10.20pm. I’m back
there at 9 tomorrow morning.
Home is where the heart is, Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-1351679700158576712013-01-03T23:00:00.000+01:002013-01-04T04:29:51.259+01:00Janathon #3My Shoes
I have owned
– multi-blue suede Fila skate shoes, navy Vans that turned grey with age, kangaroo leather Adidas moulded stud football boots. Black DMs, blue DMs, steel toe-capped DMs and DM shoes to wear to school. Green Reebok basketball boots trainers, gold Nike Air cross-trainers and two pairs of Adidas Torsion tennis shoes in alternate colourways.
I wear my Converse everyday now. Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-24944807828418372012013-01-02T02:49:00.000+01:002013-01-03T02:52:50.267+01:00Janathon #2
After Roadrunner (not the cartoon)
Roadrunner once.
Roadrunner twice.
I’m in Love with Rock’n’roll... and I run every night.
iPod on I grind my knee cartilage and the broken soles of my feet into the
pavement.
iPod on I justify having three sugars in my coffee and that slice of Rocky Road
and a packet of crisps.
iPod on I run in the rain, through the mist.
iPod on I run through the Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-55284601108229875162013-01-01T02:34:00.000+01:002013-01-03T02:37:14.912+01:00Janathon #1
I ran 3k, but felt like a fraud. My running kit gleaming,
reflecting car lights, shoes white. It was January 1st and there I
was, running around like some Olympics-bandwagonesque-soon-to-quit-New-Year's-Resolution-Jogger, – the likes of which are scorned on Joao Morais’ blog.
But I’m not One Of Them, I’m not. Yes, my thermal UV
resistant waterproof breathable technical sport kit is shiny,Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-59252231782939354472012-12-24T01:44:00.001+01:002012-12-24T01:49:34.644+01:002012, yeah?
PROLOGUE
2012 has been a bit of a year, don’t want to brag, like, but compared the very
little I’ve done since 1977, it deserves a bit of a hurrah.
We had a really cute baby (well, I just sat and napped and watched while my
wife had the baby, but still...), and we named her Josie, a cool punk-rock-kitten
sister to Jacob who is nearly four now.
I got a degree, and started a Masters.
I ran andJamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-47095733974226043312012-10-19T02:08:00.000+02:002012-10-19T02:10:18.209+02:00Short Story: DiscussionYour
fingernails are too long, I say. Your hair needs cutting, I say. Your jeans are
ingrained with dirt, and are disintegrating at the knee, I say. And your face
is, your face is, your face just is...
aaagh, I say, when what I really want
to say is that:
You disgust me. I look at you, and you
disgust me.
Your apathy disgusts me. Your apathy and lethargy, antipathy and
atheism, and apologetic Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-67334949516972600782012-10-19T02:03:00.000+02:002012-10-19T02:04:59.319+02:00Post-Graduate Post #1So, then, University, eh? Cardiff is a wonderful place to do anything, especially to learn. I've had to re-learn how to cross busy roads, and how long it takes to walk somewhere as opposed to how long I think it takes to walk somewhere, for example. And lots about writing and creativity, too.
My fellow students are all very lovely, although they make me feel a bit old: the majority of them are Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-92168097843274943082012-09-11T15:44:00.002+02:002012-09-11T15:47:56.819+02:00On 'Class'The musical Chicago is quite rather good. I have seen the film and watched the musical theatre production, and I (first) begrudgingly and (then) rather over-excitedly liked it. My favourite songs are the one where Billy Flynn the hotshot lawyer does the puppeteering, and the one where it goes ‘Nobody got no class’. Google (our mutual friend) tells me these songs are called ‘We Both Reached For Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-18401808664145470432012-09-04T02:03:00.000+02:002012-09-04T02:03:20.048+02:0028-01-94
Brixton Academy
I check my pocket for the second time, the third time and I have the tickets. I’ve already spent the time from Beckenham Junction to Gypsy Hill unable to find them. Losing things is kinda my thing. But I’ve got them. It’s OK.
We get off the train at Brixton. We turn right, and right again. It’s dark, cold. Some men pogo out of the door of a pub as we walk past. We follow them. Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-42161905022179013932012-08-28T23:40:00.000+02:002012-08-28T23:40:48.607+02:00Short Story: Hearlumination
It’s the same song, the Ohrwurm of a hundred bored days and every
sleepless night. Danced to it at discos, set it as your ringtone, he played it
at his wedding and she put it on every compilation tape and mix CD she made for
the best part of five years. Fell in and out of love to it, with it.
Every strained lyric, every compressed handclap, every
plosive breath and derivative lead guitar Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-10679393991621315222012-08-07T02:32:00.002+02:002012-08-07T02:34:48.009+02:00A First at the Second Time of Asking
I first went to university in 1996. It didn’t go well. Many games of pooh sticks
have been played, yeah?
So anyway, I started again 10 years later in the most low falutin’ of ways. Yep, I traded in some supermarket loyalty vouchers for an online academic
course.
And after six years, five courses, last minute credit transfers, some
desperate grant requests and essay extensions, I come to Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-88708367824412238062012-07-17T00:07:00.000+02:002012-07-17T00:07:01.509+02:00A Brief InterludeI've so much to say, but I can't right now. It's all very exciting.
I wrote some short-short stories on some Post-It notes the other day. Definitely a work-in-progress kinda project in the making there.
I started a positive blog. http://jamieheartsstuff.wordpress.com/ It's rather cheerful.I've written an essay for a forthcoming anthology of essays, all about Courtney Love and Hole. My friend Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-52319494587466313012012-02-21T00:11:00.002+01:002012-02-21T00:14:23.573+01:00Evergreen Review
I have a story called 'Points of Articulation' included in the latest issue of Evergreen Review.
Wikipedia will tell you:
Evergreen Review debuted pivotal works by Samuel Beckett, Jorge Luis Borges, Charles Bukowski, William S. Burroughs, Marguerite Duras,Jean Genet, Allen Ginsberg, Günter Grass, Jack Kerouac, Norman Mailer, Henry Miller, Pablo Neruda, Vladimir Nabokov, Frank O’Hara,KenzaburoJamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-23459282041864029272012-01-31T15:15:00.001+01:002012-01-31T15:16:12.901+01:00Beckenham Library Gave Me Power
I grew up in the London Borough of Bromley. As a teenager, I don’t think that there could be a more dull place to exist. Hanging out outside HMV in Bromley High Street and buying clothes in Cromwell’s Madhouse in The Glades shopping centre was as good as it got. I lived in Beckenham, where we had a swimming pool and a library. Lots of parks though, lots of parks. A townie nightclub in BeckenhamJamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639283731762690881.post-64891259815037590632011-12-21T01:39:00.001+01:002011-12-21T01:43:08.187+01:00Bookshelves and Books and Writers 2011
The website Bookshelfporn.com is amazing. It's aspirational. And a little bit crazy. So here's what's on mine...
I’ve mainly been reading guilty pleasures of late: football books. Gary Neville's autobiography Red is a sturdy, solid read, not especially exciting, but dependably relentless none the less. There are a few glaring errors (surely it’s Salford Quays, not Keys?), but that just adds to Jamie Woods '77http://www.blogger.com/profile/14876980272987656395noreply@blogger.com0